


Isileth's Story: On Reflection

by RelFexive



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25365304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelFexive/pseuds/RelFexive
Summary: Before Skyhold, before becoming Inquisitor, Isileth Adaar is the fledging Inquisition's top agent, and Herald Of Andraste. But where did she come from?  First published Sep 6, 2015.





	Isileth's Story: On Reflection

The ice reflected the lurid green of the Breach overhead imperfectly, Isileth noted idly. Which was only to be expected, what with its rough and fractured surface. She swung her feet freely like a child with nothing better to do, which was completely at odds with the sense of constant urgency that seemed to surround her every day. That too was only to be expected, though perhaps it could be put off.

"I thought I might find you here."

_Not for long though_ , Isileth thought, the feeling that affairs were reaching out to envelop her again making her neck and shoulders tighten with tension. The person that had spoken was pleasant enough, she just had a tendency to be the one to deliver bad news. Or ask questions. Isileth half-turned to face her.

"Sister Nightingale," the reluctant Herald of Andraste said, greeted the Inquisition's spymaster with a nod. The woman stood at the other end of the short pier that extended out into Haven's frozen pond, hood drawn up against the wind. _I wonder what she wants this time_. "I get the feeling you always know exactly where I am."

"I would not be very good at my job if I did not," came the reply, accompanied with a slight smile. As always, the accent dripped into the ear like beguiling honey. "And please, call me Leliana." The redhead walked along the creaking planks towards Isileth, stopping a few feet short. "No need to look so worried," Leliana assured her, "no bad news or urgent missions today!"

"Really." Isileth had not meant to sound quite so sceptical but it just seemed to happen anyway. She began to adjust her position, seated at the end of the pier, in order to stand up but Leliana instead just gestured at her to stay where she was and sat down next to Isileth on the cold wood.

"I thought you might like some company," Leliana explained, "unless you'd rather I...?"

"No," Isileth replied, "it's fine." She sighed. "Though I did come here to be away from... everything." She looked sidelong at the other woman. "As far as they let me get from it, anyway."

"You think they – we – keep you around because we still suspect you were involved in the destruction of Haven?"

"Whatever I say or do," Isileth told her, frowning, "it doesn't quite seem to stop the glances or the whispers. I think some people still expect me to suddenly turn on them." The Breach, far overhead, suddenly rumbled like lingering thunder and a crackle of green light flared in her left fist. Isileth winced as the shining Mark in her palm flashed a lance of pain up her arm. After a moment it stopped and the green faded away; she let out the breath she had been holding in. "Of course, that kind of thing doesn't help."

"I think much of the behaviour of the people of Haven stems from you being the Herald." Leliana looked seriously at her, the usual humour absent and replaced with... reverence, maybe? "They know you are fighting for them, but you are something of a holy figure now, and that is not something they see every day, even up here."

"And telling them I'm really not just seems to reinforce it," Isileth said with a touch of frustration in her voice. "Denying it just makes it worse." She shook her head. "It's just ridiculous."

"They can't understand how someone could deny what is seen as entirely self-evident," Leliana continued, sounding a little tiny bit annoyed at the use of 'ridiculous' to describe her people's beliefs. _I'm going to have to watch what I say around them_. "It is strange enough that a qunari should be chosen, but you are still such a mystery to them."

The spymaster's last words had the very definite feeling of a query to them, a kind of conversational prompt that expected the person being spoken to to respond with answers of some kind. _Now it becomes clear_. Isileth let the brief pause grow into something longer, looking down at the ice below her feet again and swinging them a little. When it seemed like the redhead was almost about to speak again, Isileth spoke first.

"You could just ask," she said quietly, not really speaking to Leliana exactly but rather speaking aloud to whoever might happen to be listening. "That's been known to work." Leliana seemed to be taken aback for a moment as if she were shocked, and then chuckled.

"True," she conceded, smiling, "but I've gotten so used to playing the Game I forget that it does actually work on most people." She shrugged. "Expecting deception at every turn makes you forget simple honesty."

"What do you know already?" Isileth asked, dreading the answer. Who knew how much this highly proficient and, yes, distractingly attractive woman had already discovered? _But it's not like there's actually much to know, is there?_ She almost laughed out loud at the idea that someone might think she was a spy for the Qun or something. Though there was a bit of that going around right now...

"I know you served as a mercenary," Leliana began, "and that you come from Ostwick, in the Free Marches." She seemed to be mentally ticking off points on her fingers. "You were hired for security during the Conclave, and, well, we all know the main points after that." Leliana turned to look frankly at Isileth. "That really is about it, beyond personal details like a general lack of religious belief, all-round stubbornness-" she smiled "- and a pragmatic attitude."

"I grew up in a village _near_ Ostwick," Isileth corrected her. Leliana conceded the point with a nod, and Isileth could see her filing the information away somewhere behind her eyes. "The only... vashoth, I guess... that I saw until I left were my mother and father." She paused for a moment in remembrance. "My father gave me my first bow and taught me to use it. My mother made me curious about the world and taught me a lot. I never asked what they did before I was born and they never told me."

"You never met any other qunari before you left home?" Leliana's question sounded simple enough but it really made her sound like she was really going for the whole _enemy_ _spy_ angle.

"As I have recently been informed," Isileth said with a trace of bitterness in her voice, "I can not truly call myself a qunari. I am not a follower of the Qun." _Another thing taken from me by the expectations of others_. She sighed. "I am more properly a vashoth, but most people don't know to make the distinction. I don't really think of myself as either... it's just what people call me and I have to go with it."

"So how _would_ you describe yourself?" Leliana looked at her with singular intent, like this was an important question. Which in some ways, it was.

"I guess I'm a Marcher, for whatever that's worth," Isileth said with a shrug. "It's where I grew up."

"So independently-minded, stubbornly resistant of obvious labels, and willing to ally with your difficult neighbours against a common foe?" There was a slight smile on Leliana's lips.

"Seems appropriate, right?" Isileth agreed with a lop-sided grin. They shared a laugh.

"What made you leave your village?" Leliana was still chuckling as she asked the question.

"I was interested in history, and how much we don't know about the past." Isileth pulled a face. "I wanted to go out and investigate ancient ruins, uncover long-lost secrets, and have adventures." She idly rubbed the palm of her left hand with the fingers of the right. "But without things like a so-called 'proper' education, financing, and the backing of a patron I'd end up a porter on some vanity expedition, or worse." She pointed to her broken horns. "These make people assume you're only good for hitting people or frowning menacingly at them."

"You may find the Inquisition affords you the opportunity to investigate such things," Leliana suggested, "though only after we close the Breach and the crisis is over."

"Somehow I doubt that," Isileth said glumly.

"How did you end up signing a mercenary contract?" Leliana asked following a long silence.

"It sounds ridiculous, but..." Isileth just ploughed on. "I wanted to earn enough to fund my own expedition." She grimaced. "I don't really think I had any idea about how much those can cost or how much mercenaries get paid. But it was better than being stuck somewhere doing a hitting job or... some other kind of job... so, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Isileth stared at her feet. "There aren't exactly that many opportunities for anyone who looks like me." She looked at Leliana again. "But... I came to enjoy the mercenary life. Travelling, meeting new people, and... well, yes, fighting them more often than not. The comradeship, the challenges." She nodded. "Those were worth it."

"If it's not too personal a question..." Leliana began carefully after a long moment. Isileth just raised an eyebrow at her and the spymaster continued. "How did you... break your horns?"

Isileth stared at her for a second before bursting out in laughter. Through the laughing she could see that Leliana looked quite offended.

"It's okay," Isileth wheezed, "not laughing... at you..." She got herself back under control and coughed. "I was expecting something a bit more actually personal," she explained, "it's not a taboo subject or anything. So, short answer." She flashed a grin. "A careless cave exploration and a low roof... followed by a rockfall. A big one." Leliana smiled in response.

"As a mercenary?"

"Yes, and they never let me forget it." Isileth found a warm smile on her face as she remembered the embarrassing incident in question. Some of the people involved had died at Haven while the rest of the company had survived... and were out there, somewhere. "I was convinced that... Well, I'll start at the beginning..."

The telling of the tale went on for some time.


End file.
